


Not Quite Regret

by hato



Series: Shoulda, Coulda, Woulda [3]
Category: Aliens (1986)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hato/pseuds/hato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy day. A worn teddy bear. Hicks isn't sure if he wants to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Quite Regret

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** _Aliens_ does not belong to me. I'm borrowing the people and will put them back.  
>  **Warnings:** Mentions of PTSD Behaviors, Introspective, Swearing, Consensual Sexual Relations.  
>  **A/N:** I really like Hicks/Hudson. It gives me bittersweet warm fuzzies. Inspired by my friend, Frack.

Newt doesn’t always leave Hudson in her room. She says he gets bored there, all day while she’s at school, even with the other toys to keep him company. So the teddy bear is often spotted around other areas of the living unit.

Sometimes, Hudson is on the couch in the front room. Black button eyes staring blankly at the video monitor. Occasionally, it is propped in the oversized chair in the corner. One of Ripley’s flight manuals open on its lap.

It’s been found on the bathroom sink, the middle of Ripley and Hicks’ bed, Bishop’s cat tower, under the kitchen table and even on the roof once (it took Hicks a day and a half to figure out how the girl managed to get up there). 

Today, it is resting on the window sill by the desk Hicks shares with Ripley. Gazing outside at the storm clouds. 

Hicks notices it after returning from dropping Newt off at school. Shuffling into the unit, stiff and awkward because it’s going to rain and that always fucks with his injuries. He’s working at home because the ceiling in his office on base leaks. It’s going to storm like hell and he doesn’t feel like handling soggy papers or erecting his poncho over his computer system. So he’s here, dry, plopping heavily into his desk chair. Massaging his left thigh. Staring at the mounds of paperwork.

And looks up. And smiles slightly.

Hudson is not very old, but is showing hard wear. The short, dark fur is worn very thin in several places. One ear is coming loose from the seam. Hicks himself has sown the bear up a few times. Ripley has replaced the button eyes, twice. He reaches out and pulls the bear from the sill. Sits it on his lap, holding it carefully. Studying the familiar lines of its short snout, the bald patches, the stitched scars.

A well loved toy.

Named for a well loved friend.

Hicks absently rubs the loose ear between his fingers and remembers...

Laughter and crude jokes in a dark bunk. Ignorant bravado under fire. A whip-smart mind with a mouth to match. Christ, Hudson had been a punk. A loud mouthed, arrogant punk. Young, dumb, and full of cum, as Apone was fond of saying. And Hicks had taken a shine to the kid. Tried to teach him. Curb his tongue. Curb his temper. Focus that tech savvy mind. They were all family, his squad, but Hudson had truly been the little brother he’d never had.

Remembers a mission-turned-clusterfuck that sent two of his buddies home in body bags. What they could find, at least. Sent another to the medi-vac so torn up the medic merely pumped her full of morphine and shook his head and ordered Hudson to let go of the lifeless hand. Hours of debriefing, medical evals, psych evals. Hudson silent. Dazed. Shuffling around in wide eyed shock. Shattered innocence beneath the thin layer of grief. And then darkness. An attempt at sleep. Hudson stumbling to the facilities and taking way too long.

Remembers following. Hearing the soft sniffling and dull _thwapthwap_ , unmistakable, hollow in the tiled room. Laying a hand on Hudson’s shoulder and feeling the trembling muscles work as he struggles to jerk himself off in the empty showers. Needing the release. Needing the endorphin induced blankness to sleep. Just like the others, except they’d all taken care of it earlier, there in the showers; politely ignoring the soldier next to them performing the same necessary bodily function. All except Hudson, mentally still on the battlefield and wondering how the fuck it all went wrong.

Remembers reaching out. The lost look in Hudson’s eyes when he turns him around. Grief. Exhaustion. His own heart aching in sympathy. Asking quietly and receiving the barest nod before carefully sliding his hand into the front of Hudson’s PT shorts. Bracing him against the cold wall. Gripping and stroking. Measured. Efficient. 

Whispering. _Breathe, Hud, you have to breathe..._

Familiar splash of heat on his hand and Hudson sagging against him. Itch of hot tears on his shoulder. Washing his hand off under the nearest spigot and being satisfied with Hudson’s fatigue-clumsy wiping down of his own person. Damp spots everywhere. Drake’s towel soiled. Rubbing a comforting hand on the back of Hudson’s neck, and ready to lead him back to the bunk for much needed rest.

Remembers cigarette breath and surprise. Hudson’s sloppy, awkward, tight lipped kiss missing most of his mouth, smearing across his chin and jaw instead. A single word of gratitude breathed against his stubble. Letting Hudson pull back first and grinning softly at the child-like openness of his sleepy face. Bumping their foreheads together. Ruffling the short dark hair. Pushing Hudson out of the corner, out of the facilities and back to his bunk. Poor kid asleep before his head hits the pillow...

Hicks lets go of the bear’s ear, the fur rubbed hot and smooth under his thumb.

He wraps both hands around its plump middle, lifting up. Gently taps the blunt nose against his forehead, letting it rest there for a moment. Closes his eyes. Slowly drags it lower. Brushing over the corner of his mouth. Hicks sighs. Softly. Knowingly.

And pushes a smile to his lips as he puts Hudson back on the sill.

Black button eyes reflected in the window glass. 

**end**

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to everyone who reads, kudos' and comments!!!


End file.
